Pixy
by Nemo the Unknown
Summary: Leviathan attacks Brockton Bay a few years early. Taylor wants revenge.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, folks. If you follow my other major project at the moment, Cazador, you may have noticed me mentioning something else I wrote a while back, named Pixy. Up until now, it's only been posted on SB, but I had a bit of free time, so I figured why not bring it over to FFN, in case any of my readers happen to not like/not know about SB. I make no promises about steady updates or anything like that; this was pretty spur of the moment when I wrote it, and any further updates will be similarly unplanned, but that doesn't mean I won't ever write anything else for it.**

 **So, without further ado, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Brockton Bay - September 2003**

Taylor let out a yelp as she fell, the various bits of scrap electronics she had managed to scrounge from the junkyard spilling out of her backpack. She sat up, glaring at the section of shattered sidewalk that had caused to trip.

She didn't cry. She had cried when the Endbringer sirens went off, and her mommy and daddy had scrambled to pack the most important things in their house. She had cried when the tsunami wave appeared on the horizon, moments before the shelter doors had sealed behind her. She had cried when the ceiling above them shook, and the first cracks appeared. When she woke up who knew how long later, and learned that both her parents had died when the shelter collapsed, she had cried.

She didn't have any tears left to shed, now. She didn't have anything left but herself and the few belongings that hadn't been washed out of the backpack she had been carrying that day.

Emma was gone. Mister Barnes had moved her and her family out of the city soon after the attack; claiming that they'd be back once the city got a little more cleaned up. That had been almost a year ago.

Kurt and Lacey were missing, presumed dead, last Taylor had heard. Just another pair of names among the hundreds killed or swept out to sea by Leviathan's waves.

Everyone else Taylor could think of was either gone or missing, leaving her all alone.

Taylor crawled over to the very same backpack she had been carrying that day, the bag now holding scraps of metal and circuitry. Alexandria's masked face looking up at her, as if mocking her, teasing that all her efforts would be for nothing, that she would fail where every other cape had failed so many times.

 _No._

Steeling herself, Taylor stood back up, heaving her backpack onto her shoulders. She had to try. The Endbringers had killed her Mommy and Daddy. She was going to kill the Endbringers.

* * *

Quietly, Taylor inched the basement door shut. She wasn't afraid of Mister Creighton finding her. No. Heroes weren't afraid of meanies like him. But if he found out _about_ her, found out she was a Tinker, _well…_

She shuddered to imagine what he would do. She knew that the guys who came over every week were part of the Empire, and she had read PHO enough at the library to know that the gangs would pay a lot of money for her abilities. She didn't doubt he would sell her to them, if they found out.

Taylor let out a sigh, creeping down the stairs.

She was safe, for now.

Finally, she came to the sheet covered object that was her weapon. She was going to destroy Behemoth, overwhelming him with more power than even he could handle; she would boil away Leviathan's water, leaving him with nowhere to hide until he too came apart under her assault; and she would melt the Simurgh's wings, sending her plummeting to the Earth, just like Icarus. (Mommy would be proud that she remembered that story.)

Pulling off the sheet, she took a moment to admire her creation.

 _Trinity._

She had learned the name from her research at the library. The dictionary said it meant a group of three, but when she had searched the internet, she learned it was also the name of the first nuclear bomb. It was the perfect name for her weapon; she would use one Trinity to destroy another. Hers may not have been nuclear, (She had ideas for nuclear weapons, too, so she knew the difference.) but it was easily just as powerful. It was no mere missile, either.

It was the size of three men, the device long ago having become too heavy to keep on the table. She had decided to heed the warnings when the table began creaking, managing to slide the missile on to the floor without damaging it too badly. Thankfully, she hadn't put in the explosive filler yet, otherwise she would have turned the house, and indeed the better part of the city, into a flaming ball of destruction; the Polynitrogen she had made was as unstable as it was powerful. When she had first tried making some, she had decided to test its explosive capability in the backyard.

A single drop had exploded with enough force to knock her on her butt and leave her ears ringing. Making enough to fill the missile would be tough, but it would be worth it in the end.

Setting her backpack on the floor, Taylor pried open a panel on the missile's nose, revealing a partially complete guidance system. It wouldn't do for her to launch the missile, only to miss the target by a mile. When the time came, she was only going to have one chance.

Taylor froze as she heard a knocking upstairs.

"Hn..?" Mister Creighton snorted to wakefulness, his voice muffled by the door. "...Damn kids," She heard him shuffle around, cursing at her for not answering the door, and at the uninvited guests now knocking at the door. "...'Ello? Who the hell're you?"

"Good afternoon, I'm here on behalf of the PRT." The voice at the door was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She knew she had heard it somewhere before. "Are you the current legal guardian of one Taylor Hebert?"

"The kid? Yeah, she should be around somewhere. What'd'ya want the brat for? She ain't in trouble, is she?"

"We believe she may have triggered as a parahuman."

Taylor's blood ran cold. Mister Creighton knew she had triggered. She had to do something, anything to get away from him now, or the moment they were alone, Mister Creighton was going to sell her to the gangs, and then she'd never get to finish her work. She crept up the stairs, cracking open the basement door. At the door stood Armsmaster himself, a couple of PRT troopers standing behind him.

"A parahuman? What the hell makes you say that?"

Taylor gasped. Armsmaster was Brockton Bay's local tinker, having quickly risen to prominence for his abilities; remarkable even by the standards of other Tinkers. If anyone could help her, it was him. She opened the door the rest of the way, the hinges squeaking as she stepped out into the main room. Armsmaster looked up, staring her dead in the eyes.

"Miss Hebert?"

"Mm-hm." Taylor shook her head. Armsmaster stepped forward, his powered armor letting him push Mister Creighton to the side with barely any effort, much to the man's displeasure.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Uh-huh!" She nodded again. "You're Armsmaster, the hero!" Taylor darted forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the basement door. "I gotta show you something!"

She nearly yanked his arm off in the process of pulling him down the stairs. If she could impress him enough, he might decide to help her! He was a hero! Maybe he would even carry her weapon into battle against Leviathan himself!

Taylor's heart swelled with possibilities. When she finally let go of him, Armsmaster stood up near silently, the muffled whine of his suit's servos the only sound in the room as he looked around at the basement. The walls were plastered in notebook paper, the sheets covered in calculations and formulae for things like railguns and laser cannons in between notes on her current project; Trinity wasn't Taylor's only idea, just the easiest to make. The others would need energy on a scale that she couldn't hope to achieve even with a decade to tinker. Armsmaster could help though! He could go up to the PRT and tell them "Taylor's gonna make a big bomb that's gonna kill the Endbringers, so you should just give her whatever she asks for."

Yes. Perfect. She wouldn't abuse this power at all.

Well, maybe a little. But not too much.

Taylor shook her head, turning to Armsmaster, who was kneeling over the partially assembled missile.

"...You built this?" He said slowly.

"Mm-hm!" She raced to his side, prying back the same panel she had been working on earlier. "I almost finished the guidance system, so then I just gotta put in the propulsion system and the warhead, and then it should be ready!"

Armsmaster was silent. Did she do it? He wasn't looking too hard at it. In fact, he seemed to be keeping his distance, His jaw set in a line. Did she mess up? Was her work so bad that Armsmaster found it physically offensive?

"Miss Hebert," He finally said, "I'm going to have to ask you to come with me to the PRT Headquarters."

Taylor nearly jumped with joy, she was smiling so much. She couldn't wait to ride Armsmaster's motorcycle, and look at all the cool stuff in his lab, and-!

"Lock down the area, bring in an Ee-Oh-Dee squad as well." Armsmaster muttered to one of the PRT soldiers as he led her upstairs. Taylor didn't know what Ee-Oh-Dee was, but she must have done something right if they were coming, right?

Taylor practically sprinted outside, where Armsmaster's motorcycle stood in all its glory. She couldn't believe she was actually going to be able to ride with Armsmaster!

The man himself followed her out moments later, Mister Creighton trailing behind him shouting obscenities.

"This is private property! You can't just barge in here! I'll sue-!"

Armsmaster turned around, frowning.

"Taylor Hebert is a Parahuman; therefore the PRT has full jurisdiction to investigate the area and instate any measures it deems necessary to ensure the safety if the local populace." He opened a small port on his armor, pulling out a business card. "You can contact this number for reimbursement of damages and costs due to PRT operations." With that, he spun back around, leaving a dumb-struck Mister Creighton. Looking to Taylor, he nodded at his bike. "Let's go."

Grinning wildly, Taylor practically skipped after him, ready to become the hero she had always dreamed of becoming.

* * *

Emily looked up at Armsmaster from her desk, the man standing solemnly before her.

"So, what can you tell me about her?"

Armsmaster cleared his throat, looking down at the report he held in his hands.

"Taylor Hebert, age eight, provisional codename 'Bomber'. Daughter of Daniel and Annette Hebert, both deceased in the attack last year."

Emily nodded. Leviathan had caused a few triggers both in his attack, and in the following months. Most of them were dead now, but obviously not all of them.

"Following the death of her parents, and with no family capable of taking her in, she was placed in the foster system, and currently resides with a 'Michael Creighton'," Armsmaster's eyes narrowed, "His file indicates no criminal history, save for a few misdemeanor charges. However, he has shown sympathies with the local Empire 88 gang in the past."

"What about the girl herself?" Emily grunted.

"Miss Hebert seems to have triggered as a Tinker. Her only creation thus far is a missile with a Tinkertech warhead, which she claims should have a yield of several terajoules, and is intended for use against Endbringers." Armsmaster slid a few pictures across the desk, depicting the weapon in question. "She also seems to have a strong sense of justice, and has indicated a definite intention to join the Protectorate, given the chance."

Emily sighed, relieved. Hebert might have only been a child, but one more cape was one more cape, old or young. Regardless of her personal opinions on the matter, she'd take whatever she could to keep Brockton Bay from falling any further into chaos.

"Good. Answer any questions she has, introduce her to the other Wards, and send her home with the standard paperwork-."

"That brings me to my second note," Armsmaster continued, "Miss Hebert has made a single request regarding removing herself from the foster system."

Raising a single eyebrow, Emily leaned forward.

"Explain."

Armsmaster nodded.

"She has made several claims that paint her guardian as incompetent, if not outright abusive. She requested that, upon her joining the Wards, she be moved to a new foster home."

Piggot sat silently for a moment.

"Fair enough," She finally said, "I'll contact the Youth Guard; that sort of thing falls under their purview, but I can't imagine they'll complain if you really are correct. Maybe this time they'll actually be some help for once."

"Perhaps." Armsmaster nodded humorlessly.

"Anything else you needed to note?"

"I did have one request, Director." Armsmaster set the stack of documents detailing Taylor Hebert's history on the desk, folding his hands behind his back. "Given Miss Hebert's powerset, I believe she would benefit from the mentorship of a fellow Tinker to guide her development into a hero."

"You mean yourself," Piggot surmised, "Where are you going with this, Colin?"

"I… Would like to request to be considered for guardianship of Miss Hebert myself."

Piggot's brows shot up incredulously as she sat up in her seat.

"Really?" Her tone was less disbelief, and more bemusement. "I have to ask, Colin; what on earth makes you think that could possibly be a good idea?"

Armsmaster let out a slow breath, steeling himself.

"I am well aware of my own… difficulties when dealing with the emotions of others. However I feel that, given proper mentorship, this girl could be a very effective Tinker in her own right, on the same level of Tinkers such as String Theory. If I were to take the role of her guardian, then I believe she would benefit from having a guardian capable of empathizing with issues only another Tinker could understand."

Piggot leaned back in her seat, her hands laced in front of her in thought.

"Which parenting website did you pull that particular quote off of?" She finally said. "We both know you've got all the empathy of a brick, so I _highly_ doubt you came up with that little piece of wisdom on your own. That said, I think I know what your real plan is, here." Her eyes narrowed. "Most people would frown on using another person for your own benefit like that, much less a young girl."

Colin grimaced. She… Wasn't wrong in her guess, to be entirely truthful. Endbringer-killer might be a bit much, but if the rest of her Tinkertech was as powerful or more so than what he had seen in that basement, she would most definitely end up as a well known cape. If he were known as the person who got her to that point, it'd be a huge boost to his own career.

"This is a living person, Colin, not a machine. You do understand that, right?"

Colin said nothing under Piggot's withering stare. Finally, she sighed.

"If you're serious about this, it's your funeral; I'll pass your request along to the Guard. This is all their problem, not mine."

Nodding, Colin turned to exit.

"And Armsmaster?" She added. "If this ends up coming back to bite _me_ , it's _your_ ass."

Walking into the waiting room where Taylor sat holding a bottle of juice one of the personnel had gotten for her, Colin stopped to observe her for a moment. She seemed to be deep in thought, murmuring to herself as he approached, tapping her shoulder. The girl returned to consciousness with a jump, and looked up at him hopefully.

"Miss Hebert," Colin started, Piggot's words still ringing in his head, "Taylor. The director has approved your requests. Once the appropriate paperwork has been filed, you'll officially be a Ward." He held out a hand. "She'll also be making the appropriate calls to see about having you moved out of your current foster situation."

Taylor's eyes went wide and more than a little misty. Then she jumped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist. Colin thought he felt something splash on the back of his armor, but decided not to mention it for the time being.

 _"Thank you."_ she mumbled.

Colin stood motionless for a moment, unsure of how to respond. If anyone saw him, they didn't say anything. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her, tentatively returning the hug.

"...If you'd like, I could introduce you to the other Wards?"

This wasn't so bad. He could handle this.

* * *

 **Brockton Bay - April 2011**

Colin sighed, looking at all the destruction wrought on the surrounding area.

He was getting very tired of handling these problems.

Moving cautiously, halberd at the ready, he spotted an unfortunately familiar pair of figures, one dark and shrouded, one light and armored.

"Pixy, Shadow Stalker. Report. Are you two unharmed?"

"I'm fine," The darker figure grunted, "A little singed is all."

The lighter grey figure, though only just with all the scorch marks covering her armor, waved jauntily.

"Evening, sir. One Parahuman and _six, seven, eight..._ How many did you say, Stalker?"

"Nine."

"Right. Nine unpowered thugs, neutralized and ready for transport."

Armsmaster's eyes narrowed.

"You didn't answer my question, Pixy."

The girl sighed, slouching over dramatically.

"I'm _fiiine,_ Dad. I promise. The Caliburn suit you and Dragon helped me with is holding up fine too." She patted a still smouldering section of armor a few times, giving him a thumbs up.

"That was still a pointlessly risky move, attacking Lung without backup."

"We thought he was going to kill _kids!"_ Pixy protested, "I mean, granted, it turned out he was talking about the Undersiders, but _still_. We were justified."

"The Undersiders?" Armsmaster raised his halberd defensively.

"Don't worry, they left," She sighed, "Popped up to thank us for saving their asses before _Miss Triggerhappy_ here chased them off."

Looking back and forth between the two Wards, Colin sighed. Taylor's dedication to protecting the innocent and her skill in fighting were certainly commendable, her tendency to throw herself into needless battles in the name of those things was… less so.

"You're both on console duty when you return, until further notice."

The girls groaned. Colin frowned.

"Yes sir…" Taylor muttered, activating her suit's jets.

With the faintest smile, Colin watched the two girls go. Turning to Lung, the unconscious cape's form encased in several gobs of containment foam, he frowned. The regular thugs looked well enough, but he was going to need to have a word with Taylor and Sofia both about appropriate force when it came to Brutes.

He resolved to talk to Taylor about over breakfast tomorrow.

* * *

 **Alright, so, a little backstory on the AU elements:**

 **-Leviathan attacks BB early, sometime around 2002-2003ish.**

 **-During the attack, Leviathan kills Danny and Annette among others, leaving Taylor orphaned, shuffled off into the foster system, and promptly forgotten about.**

 **-Taylor proceeds to Trigger during her time in foster care with a negligent, basically abusive guardian.**

 **-Rather than her canon power, Taylor triggers as a Tinker, with a specialization in Installations and Oversized weapons, such as the ones commonly seen in Ace Combat.**

 **-Armsmaster originally has an idea to act as her mentor and essentially use her potential to further his own career, but eventually learns to be an actually decent father figure. Think Despicable Me 1, but in Worm.**

 **-Instead of the fictional superfighters from Ace Combat, Taylor instead has suits of Iron-Man-esque power armor, each of them corresponding to different aircraft from the series**

 **There's a few other elements I'll feed you guys as they become relevant, whenever I happen to end up writing more for this, but this is what I had.**

 **Hope you folks enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bet you guys weren't expecting to see this again, huh?**

* * *

 **The Rig - May 2003**

The door to his lab opened. Colin trusted that his security systems wouldn't have allowed anyone unauthorized to enter, but it was still a minor annoyance not knowing who had entered; whether it was an aide bringing some new diversion from his work in the form of orders from on high, or Taylor, with her latest ideas for a new "Endbringer-Killer". While killing _Endbringers_ seemed a bit of a lofty goal, her designs held clear potential, certainly worth investing effort into.

"We need to talk."

So it was Hannah, then. She sounded unhappy.

"Mm-hm?"

He didn't bother looking up from his work. He was more than capable of holding a conversation while he tinkered, and the sooner these circuit boards were finished, the better.

"Arms-" Hannah sighed, and Colin could hear her costume rustling as she shifted. _"Colin._ I'm concerned about your… ward. About _Taylor."_

Taylor. It had been only two weeks since he had been officially approved as her guardian, and she had already made an impressive showing in such a short time. Based on her initial 'Trinity' design (And wasn't that name oddly on-the-nose for a child of her age?), Colin had figured Taylor for some sort of explosive Tinker; but then she had gone and given him the outline of a design for a massive, Gigawatt-grade chemical laser installation. Given the multitude of other ideas she had been all too happy to tell him about, though, he felt safe in discarding his original idea. Her specialty, rather, seemed to be in the scale her creations operated at. Every design she had proposed had been for massive complexes, far larger than anything a single person could ever operate.

"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're referring to," Colin replied, "I've made sure that she has everything she needs."

Right now, she spent most of her free time in an offshoot room of his lab with a custom CAD software of his own design. The nature of her specialty didn't lend itself well to the typical process of prototyping and improvement, so her testing was primarily restricted to digital simulations, allowing her to forge a complete set of blueprints for her creations without the need to physically build them. It had proven easier to run certain ideas through simulations in the past before committing the resources to building the real thing, allowing him to save significant chunks of his budget on the costs of building, troubleshooting, and rebuilding.

"That's just it, Colin. You've only- _Can you at least look at me?"_

Looking up and turning in his seat, Colin found himself face to face with Miss Militia; her expression stormy.

"The girl does nothing but sit in your lab all day tinkering; far more than she should be, even discounting the loopholes we both know you've been exploiting for her. She hasn't even tried to interact with any of the other Wards."

His residence situation had been one of the sticking points of his guardianship. While he did have a civilian address, and he technically met all the criteria to become a foster parent, there had been some concerns over his work schedule, and what Taylor was to do when she was 'off duty'. The rules meant to prevent Wards, Tinkers in particular, from overworking themselves on the clock were surprisingly lax about instances outside of their duties as Wards. Part of this likely stemmed from the fact that trying to stop a Tinker once they were focused on their work was an unenviable task; to say nothing of the fact that Wards, hell, most _Protectorate_ Tinkers just didn't have the same resources outside of their labs as inside. Most were content to keep their time within the set restrictions just for the support and work space the Protectorate provided. Taylor was something of an anomaly, given that even off-duty, she had access to his lab. He couldn't very well send her to an empty apartment while he was working, and so she spent most of her time off the clock on the Rig, usually in or around his lab. That she had access to the same equipment as at the Wards HQ was merely a given; he had originally developed the software she was using, after all.

"She isn't obligated to befriend them. You and I both know that not every team clicks easily."

Though, perhaps Hannah had a point… Taylor was entitled to spend her free time as she wished, but even by his standards, she spent an… unusual amount of time on her Tinkering for her age.

"That doesn't mean you can just let her isolate herself from the world!" Hannah nearly shouted. "I've watched her at work. She's obsessed with developing something to kill the Endbringers. She's as bad as you are, and _unlike_ you, she doesn't know when to stop. I'm genuinely concerned that she's going to kill herself with Tinkering at this rate!"

"If her actions get to the point that her health is compromised, then I'll step in, but I've made sure she has at least the necessities she needs to be healthy; her diet is stable and she's getting a minimum eight hours of sleep. I've also made sure she's aware that I'm here and willing to help her with any other issues-"

"That's just it, Colin! All you've done is the bare. Fucking. _Minimum!"_ Hannah's temper was a hair away from boiling over. Colin noticed the way her power shifted as she jabbed at his chest. It flickered back and forth between the Knife form it usually took when not in use, strapped to her belt, and a Kalashnikov rifle, gripped in her off-hand. Back and forth and back and forth it flickered. _"That girl. Is not. You._ She's not even a Teenager yet; doing nothing with her free time but tinkering and sleeping isn't any way for a girl her age to live, especially not one as obviously traumatized as she is!"

Colin held his hands up defensively, blinking. He wouldn't lie and say that Miss Militia wasn't a terrifying figure when she wanted to be, nor that she was entirely incorrect.

Had he really been doing his duty as Pixy's guardian? In letter, yes; Taylor was healthy and no rules had been broken. In _spirit_ though?

His own parents had typically been content to leave him to his own devices at least as much as he had for Taylor. Then again, he was well aware that they had never been exemplars of great parenting. Likewise, the Youth Guard's rules regarding Pixy's activities were… Complicated, given the situation. Given that her workplace was effectively also her home, much like himself, there were certain rules and regulations that didn't necessarily apply in the same way as they did for other Wards. Furthermore, being her guardian demanded more attention to her than other Wards, who had parents to keep an eye on their children's happiness, and could bring their concerns to the Youth Guard, who then brought them to him if they had merit. Here, _he_ had to play the role of the parent.

A role he had so far overlooked.

He thought back on his own childhood, growing up with parents that may as well have not been there. He wouldn't call his feelings towards them hate, or even dislike. More… Lack of affection. Apathy. He had come to terms with that fact he and they would never be the ideal 'nuclear family' fairly early in life, though it didn't stop him harboring some small shred of hope, however impossibly unlikely, that they could have made something more of their relationship than they had. And then getting that call from the hospital… Being forced to make an impossible choice...

 _Damn it._ Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_

He opened his hands; his knuckles white from how hard he had been clenching.

"You're…" He let out an aggravated sigh, more directed at himself than anyone else. "You're right. I've let Taylor isolate herself. And... yes, I agree that if left to her own devices, she might ultimately end up causing harm to herself, even if unintentionally. I suppose I've let myself become... _willfully ignorant_ of the problem."

Hannah seemed at least somewhat satisfied at that, her expression softening a bit.

"I'm glad to see you aren't entirely obtuse. That doesn't mean I don't still have concerns, though."

Leaning in, Hannah set a hand on Colin's shoulder. It wasn't a friendly gesture; rather, it was a firm grip, one that promised worse should he displease her.

"I had reservations about you becoming her guardian the moment I heard about it, but I held my tongue because I trusted that for all your glory chasing tendencies, you had her best interests in mind. Not that her last foster was any better, from what I know of him, but I will _not_ let you take advantage of a child for your own benefit just to leave her emotionally stunted and broken once you've gotten all the use you can wring out of her. I'll give you one more chance, but if you can't shape up, I _will_ do whatever is necessary to make sure that she's safe."

Her ultimatum delivered, Miss Militia stepped back, taking a breath to steady herself before making her way to the door and leaving a stunned and slightly bewildered Colin in his seat.

"I'm not asking you to be the perfect parental figure, Colin, not even a great one." She added, one hand on the button that controlled the doors. "I'm not sure I know anyone who could do that, when it comes to capes, except for maybe one possibility…" For a moment, Colin saw a ghost of a smirk, before she schooled it back into a weary, neutral expression. "All I want you to do is more than you have so far."

With that, she was gone, leaving Colin to consider her words. She had a point, dammit. As much as it pained him to admit, he had been damned near negligent in the past two weeks since Taylor had officially come into his care. Comparing his actions to his parents' only brought up too many uncomfortable similarities. Since that first day, he had introduced her to the other wards, set up the workstation she now spent the majority of her time at, and then promptly left her to her own devices. Some of the blame could be laid on his schedule, certainly; he had several vital duties as a member of the Protectorate and he couldn't-...

 _No._

Colin took a deep breath, centering his thoughts.

 _No excuses. You can do better. You_ _have_ _to do better._

He had just as important a duty to Taylor, as her legal guardian. There were other cape parents in the Protectorate, he was well aware. None locally, but they were still there; it wasn't as if he had taken on some sort of impossible task. New Wave had their children, on top of the already unenviable task of living unmasked from day to day and even maintaining jobs in their civilian identities in the case of some of the adult members.

Colin looked to the clock. Two-thirty. A bit late, but not too late to get lunch. A real lunch, rather than the nutrient bars he had, rather foolishly in hindsight, allowed Taylor access to. Standing up, he made his way to the doors at one side of the lab that led to Pixy's room. As he hit the button to open the doors, they slid apart to reveal the girl asleep at the design station, slouched over the interface with her head down as she slept. Colin was about to wake her when he heard her whimpering, her words tiny and quiet as she slept.

" _Mommy… Daddy… Where are you…? What's happening?"_

Her face was scrunched up, and Colin could tell from the way she shifted uneasily, clutching for something that wasn't there that her dream wasn't a pleasant one.

His heart went out to the girl. Of course this would be the driving force behind her obsession with Tinkering. Internally, he cursed himself for not realizing it sooner. She wasn't the first Tinker to throw herself into her work as an escape from the memories of her trigger, nor would she be the last. He would need to see about arranging a more regular schedule with the in-house therapist for Taylor too; she clearly needed it. And he needed to do his part to help as well.

Stepping forward, Colin carefully nudged Taylor's shoulder, trying to wake her without scaring her any further. She awoke with a start, letting out a small gasp as wakefulness rushed forth. For a tense moment she was silent, the young cape scanning the room as her brain separated dream from reality. Eventually though, she remembered where she was, allowing herself to relax. When she saw him, she jerked up into a more attentive posture.

"M-Mister Armsmaster! I- What are you doing in here?"

Colin tried his best to show Taylor a comforting smile, even if he personally didn't think it looked all that reassuring; he still needed to try, he was certain of that.

"You can call me Colin, Taylor. I'm out of costume right now."

She gulped, her eyes wide with something between awe and respect, and maybe traces of fear still lingering from her nightmare.

"Uh, Y-yes, Mister Colin!" Taylor nodded frantically.

Colin couldn't help but chuckle at her reactions, his smile a bit more genuine. It wasn't uncommon for new Wards to show more than a little open hero worship when they first joined; they were still kids, in the end. It typically wore off after a couple weeks on the job, working side by side with those same heroes and getting to know the men and women under the mask. Colin supposed that Taylor's relative isolation wouldn't have done anything to speed that along, mentally berating himself even further for his own fuckup, and his role in letting it get as far as it had.

"I wanted to ask you if you'd like to come with me to get lunch. I thought you might like to discuss your inventions while we ate."

Taylor's eyes widened with excitement, and she seemed about to say yes, but at the last moment, Colin saw her turn away, looking back down at her workstation.

"But… I'm still working on this project," she murmured, gesturing at the half-finished design laid out in front of her. "I'm so close to a breakthrough…"

Colin set a hand on her shoulder, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

"Your project will still be there when you return. I'm… concerned about how much you've isolated yourself for the past couple of weeks. I think it would help if you took a break."

Taylor looked back to him, obviously conflicted and unsure whether to stay or go.

"It won't be too long, Taylor. I want to make sure you're eating properly. Something besides nutrient bars."

Finally, Taylor relented, sagging as she let out a sigh.

"Okay… Maybe you're right."

She spun in her seat, hopping down from her chair and stretching. As she followed Colin out into the hall, he couldn't help the smile just barely creeping onto his face.

 _Small steps, Colin; make an effort to improve._

They stepped into the cafeteria; the room filled with the low rumble of private conversations. One or two glances turned their way, but quickly moved on. Most non-powered personnel knew better than to stare when an unmasked hero entered, or had the habit quickly disciplined and-or scared out of them. It was partially a matter of security, but many Protectorate members just enjoyed the semi-anonymity it granted. In the cafeteria, everyone was just another Average Joe taking a break from his job, from the tour guides to the capes. Colin looked down and frowned.

Taylor was biting her lip, her eyes darting around back and forth. Traumatic memories? It wouldn't be a stretch in the slightest to assume she suffered PTSD to some degree; Endbringer survivors frequently did. He extended his hand, making sure it lingered in Taylor's view long enough for her to realize what it was for. She grabbed it, squeezing as tightly as her smaller hands could manage.

Colin guided her over to the line, the two of them shuffling along and selecting their meals. The food provided at the Rig was far from gourmet dining, but it was edible and calories were calories. Making their way to an empty table, Colin sat down next to Taylor, and for a few minutes, the two of them ate silently as he thought about how to go about saying what he needed to say. He looked down at Taylor, watching for a moment as she poked dejectedly at a tray of spaghetti and meatballs. Closing his eyes, he breathed out.

 _Just try._

"Taylor… I'd like to apologize to you for how absent I've been since I became your guardian."

She froze, looking up to him with wide eyes.

"...I-"

She trailed off, unsure what to say. Colin forged on.

"When I decided to take guardianship of you, I made a promise to look out for you, to make sure that you would be taken care of. These last two weeks, I've let myself ignore your needs, beyond food and sleep."

Taylor's expression went panicked, and she waved her hands in a placating gesture.

"I-it's okay! I'm fine! You don't have to worry about me, Mister A-" She froze, catching herself in just the nick of time. "Uh… Mister Colin. Really."

Colin sighed. He hoped the 'Hero Worship' phase would pass soon.

"Taylor," He set a hand on her shoulder, "I agreed to deal with any problems that might arise when I became your guardian. I don't want you to hide anything you're having difficulty with just because it might be an 'inconvenience'. I'd prefer it if you were as happy and healthy as you can be."

Colin wasn't sure how he felt about doing this. He was speaking to her the same way he did when confronting panicked civilians. It felt _dishonest_ in some way; it didn't sound genuine to him. When he was talking to people that had been injured by gang violence, or innocents cowering in fear, it was to efficiently take control of a situation, to keep anyone from panicking so that he could get them out of harm's way as quickly and efficiently as possible, or so paramedics could do their jobs without getting swarmed by a panicking mob.

But this wasn't a problem that could be solved efficiently. Colin looked down at Taylor, and saw himself at her age; a precocious child forced by their circumstances to grow up long before they should have. Different circumstances, perhaps. Colin certainly wouldn't equate absentee parents to an Endbringer attack, but he knew how it felt to be alone in the world; you either learned to enjoy the isolation or you fell into despair.

"So please, if you've been suffering from any sort of distress, any… _issues,_ don't hesitate to talk to me. I want to help you, but I can't do it if you don't tell me what's wrong."

Taylor looked up at him practically awestruck, her eyes welling with tears. Diving forward, she buried her face in his side. Tentatively, Colin wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She didn't make any noise, but from the way her whole body shook slightly and the growing wet spot on his shirt, he could imagine what she was thinking. Looking around, he saw one or two people giving him a curious look, but a flat glare sent them looking somewhere else.

"If you'll agree to it, I'd like you to see the psychologist at the PRTHQ more often. I also think you would benefit from spending more time outside of the workshop."

He felt taylor pulling back, her eyes rimmed with red as she looked up at him.

"I-I can't stop working yet! I'm so close to a breakthrough, I can't give up right now-"

"It's not giving up, Taylor," He cut her off, "It's just as important that you take care of yourself."

"But… You spend so much time tinkering too."

"And I know my limits, Taylor. I've spent a lot of time measuring them, and then figuring out how to push them. And besides that, you aren't me, Taylor." Colin patted her back as consolingly as he could. "You have a lot of potential. Enough, I think, to become an even more famous Tinker than I am. But you're still young; If you keep going the way you are, I… and others are concerned you might not live to see that day. Do you understand?"

Taylor nodded slowly, wiping her eyes.

"Yeah…" She sighed, her voice watery. "Mister Colin?"

"Mm-hm?"

"Will you go with me? When I go to see the therapist?"

"I will." He didn't pause for a moment to consider his schedule. He'd make the time.

Taylor shifted slightly, leaning her head against his side.

"Thanks."

The two of them sat there in silence for a while; long enough for a majority of the other patrons of the cafeteria to leave, at least. Hannah arrived at one point, grabbing a piece of fruit from the buffet before leaving; unsure how to react and not wanting to disturb Taylor, he merely gave her a quick wave with his free hand. Hannah didn't say anything, though she did nod approvingly before leaving.

It occurred to Colin at least once that he could have spent this time tinkering; that he had circuit boards that needed soldering ASAP and he had essentially wasted at least a half hour with consoling Taylor. But looking down at the young cape who was now his responsibility, who had dozed off at some point and was now sleeping much more soundly than she had been, he pushed it out of his mind. _Perhaps…_ Perhaps Taylor had been a reminder of why he was a hero; one he had long needed. A reminder that it wasn't all about being the most effective fighter.

Colin let out a short huff of a laugh, smiling imperceptibly. He'd figure out how to do this the right way. One step at a time.

* * *

 **So, It's been, what? A year? Just over? I wonder how many people actually remembered this existed? Anyway, I'm sure you guys have a couple questions, so I'll answer them right off.**

-" **Wait, didn't the last chapter end with the Lung Battle? What's with that?**

 **-I mentioned this, but there'll be some jumping around the timeline. Individual story arcs (assuming inspiration keeps driving me on enough for entire arcs to become an actual thing to consider) will be told relatively linearly, but I may decide to hop around the timeline for each arc. The first chapter was sort of a mini-arc to show how the story starts and where it's going. I'll hammer out a more concrete timeline of events if things get to that point, though.**

 **-What about Cazador? Are you still writing that?**

 **-Yes. Cazador isn't going anywhere, but I've had this chapter sitting semi written for most of the last year and a hankering to tell more of this story for about the same time. I might end up switching between the two as inspiration strikes, if only to help ward off fatigue with locking myself into one story.**

 **So, with those questions out of the way, I wanna ask you guys a few questions of my own.**

 **-Firstly, genuine opinions. Do you guys like this? Would you be interested in seeing more? I do have ideas.**

 **-Secondly, did this feel rushed to you? This is basically the second chapter, and it feels a little rushed to have this sort of emotional event so early from a narrative perspective. Perhaps I could've done a chapter detailing Armsmaster officially gaining guardianship and Taylor's introduction to everything, but I thought that sounded kind of boring to write and read for an entire chapter, especially the first one in over a year. Your thoughts?**

 **-What about characters? Obviously I took a bit of liberties with Armsmaster's character regarding his past before joining the Protectorate, up to and including references to his trigger (at least, the way it went in this story), but making sure I nail down a character's thoughts and actions to be true to their source material is something I take pride in, and this story might very well end up one part character study in that regard. A story like what I have 'planned' (And take that with some generous sarcastic airquotes) is kind of inherently character driven, so if the characters are all wrong, then it's just shit.**

 **Anyway, now that's all off my chest, hope you enjoyed it!**

 **(Edit: Just some minor issues I didn't originally address. At the request/suggestion of readers, I'll be sure to include timestamps for future chapters. I've gone back and edited Ch.1 appropriately.)**


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